Catharsis
by scullyseviltwin
Summary: Pounding, she counted as her feet pounded against the pavement. She would count to a hundred, swipe at her brow with the back of her hand, begin at one again. [GSR]


Title: Catharsis

Author: ScullyAsTrinity

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Tcha... okay.

Category: Angst/Romance... what else?

A/N: Well... see, I'm a bad girl... this isn't the whole fic... because won't let me post the WHOLE thing... so I did what I had to. I posted it over at the LJ community. Review me and tell me if you want the link, or just email me. The real version is very much NC-17 with some good Griss/Sara lovin'.

Thanks: To Kat, basically for bugging the shit out of me to write this and post it on the community. To Holly for constant support. And to Matthew... he knows why.

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Pounding, she counted as her feet pounded against the pavement. She would count to a hundred, swipe at her brow with the back of her hand, begin at one again.

The temperature was scorching, though not by Vegas standards; still, it was probably far too hot out to be running. But she was out there none the less, black cut offs, Nike cross trainers, bright blue Nike running halter. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. The picture of fitness.

That was Sara Sidle.

It felt wonderful, the sweat trickling down the back of her neck, the sun warming her skin. She loved the sound of the blood pounding angrily in her ears, so loud, so steady. Her mouth was parched but she smacked her tongue against the roof of it in a vain attempt to bring saliva.

It probably would have been logical for her to count her miles, but that really wasn't what she cared about. She'd be done when she was too tired to run anymore.

Slowing to a jog, Sara breathed in deeply, finally walking. Raising her hands high above her head, she bent over, cracking her back in the process. Refreshing.

Standing up straight, she toggled with the idea of heading home but decided that a longer-than-normal run would help her clear her head. She prepared herself to begin again when a familiar vehicle pulled over beside her. "Isn't it a bit too hot out for that right now?" He called from the opposite side of the car, his eyes hidden by his dark glasses, hair covered by his 'Forensics' cap.

Sara panted and looked at him over the top of her glasses. "It will be in an hour, give or take." She called back, moving from side to side, stretching out the ache that had settled uncomfortably between her ribs.

Gil Grissom nodded, and looked back out towards the lonesome boulevard, still leaned over into the passenger seat. "Are you through?"

She shook her head in the negative, suddenly feeling the urge to pound everything she felt for him into the pavement for another mile or two. Her back ached, and her thighs rebelled at the thought of more pavement ahead. But she didn't care.

"I was just... going to offer you a ride back to your apartment." He trailed off, realizing that his words were completely void. She'd already said she was running some more. But she was so lovely standing there, hunched over, breathing hard. Sweaty and informal... the way she would be in bed.

And his mind flashed to a vision of the two of them under the covers. Sweaty, loving, strong and hot. Their bodies barely holding against one another, the friction reduced by the sweat pouring between them. It would be fantastic, he knew the moment would be fantastic, but the aftermath... that would be the killer.

"I'm gonna, ah..." She sucked in a breath and glared up at the sun. "Just run back, I've just gotta..." Sara pointed in the direction from which she had come. Grissom nodded again but made no move to leave.

He too looked at the sun, back to her. "I, uh, Jim went by the woman's house. Pictures of him everywhere. They got a formal statement, they're booking her now."

Smiling tightly, she confronted him. "Were you following me Griss?" She asked, staring straight at him, yanking her glasses from her face. She was surprised when he made no show of emotion at her accusal.

"No..."

Sara nodded, biting her bottom lip, looking up to see what street she was on. "Because... I'm just saying... your place is about five miles... that way." Pointing down the long street, he followed the line of her finger with his gaze. Noting her aptitude, he nodded, staring her down again, as if she needed no explanation.

"Get in for a second, I want to talk."

"Then talk Griss. I have to finish up here."

"Just get in, please." He paused and pulled off his sunglasses, revealing his pleading eyes. Sara weighed her options. She'd been keeping up with her New Year's Resolution: not to flirt, banter or show any sort of formal attachment to Gil Grissom... at least on the outside. She feared if she sat in the car, layers of her carefully built deception would crumble down. But his eyes, they were so... something, so she got into the car, cocooned by the lovely cool of the air-conditioning.

Sara waited for Grissom to start speaking, but he didn't, just handed her a half-empty bottle of water and sat back in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Uh... thanks." Sara took the bottle and gulped from it, wondering why she wasn't quite giddy, drinking from Grissom's bottle. "She say why she did it?" Sara posed, hoping to get the ball rolling... on something. Anything was better than silence.

He nodded and slipped his sunglasses back on. "She uh, he wouldn't be with her. Said their research was too important. So she killed him, stabbed him. Open and shut."

Sara felt a tinge of irony tick in her head but she ignored it and ignored the smile that nearly came with it. "Brass talk to Sofia about her... behavior?"

"Sofia's harmless." Grissom whispered, looking out the window, instead of at her.

"She almost compromises our witness... and she's harmless." Sara bit her lip and shook her head, bitterly. "Anyway, that wasn't what I was talking about."

"Why don't you like her?" He asked, a question that wasn't at all appropriate to ask.

She slid her eyes to his quickly, and in a heated voice, responded. "I like her just fine. I just don't go out on a limb and trust somebody just because they ask me to." She looked at her hands and then back at him. "That's not how it works."

"I know." He said.

"No you don't and-would you please take the damn glasses off? What the hell did you want to talk to me about?"

Fingers removed the glasses, placed them on the dashboard and returned to the bridge of his nose. "I don't know." He finally breathed out harshly.

Sara shrugged, tossed him his water and moved to get out of the car. "I'm going to finish my run then."

But Grissom's hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm, stilling her movement. "No. Sara, I..."

"What?" She'd finally had enough of his fucking mind games, his hot then cold routine. She was sick of it. "What?"

"He was just so lonely Sara. They, they checked out his apartment and... pictures of her, so many of them. And he was so lonely Sara." She was shocked, completely and utterly by the lost tone of his voice. So low, so sad.

"Yeah well, it was his own damn fault." She said coldly. "Doesn't seem like it would have been too hard for him to just 'fess up and say it. I don't feel sorry for him at all." Sara finished, and it was true. She didn't feel sorry for him. "And Griss, just to let you know, I'm not an idiot. Don't metamorphose this to be us." She slid her glasses back on and stepped out of the car, leaving him there, brows raises, intrigued.

"I wouldn't stab you, I'd strangle you." She quipped and began running back in the direction that she had come.

Sara didn't stop on the run back to her apartment building. She couldn't, there were too many thoughts screaming through her head.

'Bastard... thinks he can just act like he wants this all of a sudden, act like he cares. Push, pull, come and go. Bastard, you damn bastard.' So, for a few blocks she hated him. For the next few, the next few blocks were spent attempting not to cry at how she had let herself become so malleable; to be able to be swayed by him.

Reaching her apartment steps, she punched her fist into the hard metal of the railing, wincing when the pain burned up her arm. 'Damn it! Why can't we ever be on the same page?' Moving slowly, languidly, she pulled herself up the stairs. Her palm smacked the main door and it opened. Against, he pulled herself up the two flights to her apartment.

Grissom jumped out of his car and caught the main door just as it was about to snick shut. He followed her up the stairs, a few steps behind her, but she didn't notice him. She slammed her fist again, this time on the hard wood of her apartment door. 'Obsession, you idiot. Obsession.' She laid her head on the cool wood and was startled when a hand tapped her on the shoulder.

She whirled around.

Grissom stood before her, sweat clinging to his brow in an intriguing manner. He was sexy that way, he was.

She was still breathing hard, hard from her workout.

He stood there before her, panting himself, watching her eyes go from brown to charcoal. Her lips quirked and she slipped the key in the lock, barely having time to place the key back on her wrist-ring before he shoved her inside and smothered her panting with his eager lips.

"Need to feel you, just need to feel." He gasped out.

And everything was liquid. Everything was liquid.

End 

**Unless… of course, you wanna go read the REAL version… :::baits:::**


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